


When We're Old

by WorryinglyInnocent



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: A Monthly Rumbelling, F/M, Fluff, Rumbelle - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-24
Updated: 2019-06-24
Packaged: 2020-05-19 03:27:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,753
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19348567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WorryinglyInnocent/pseuds/WorryinglyInnocent
Summary: Gold and Belle discuss getting older and what will happen to their relationship in their twilight years.Written for the @a-monthly-rumbelling prompt: “That might just be the least romantic thing you’ve ever said to me.”





	When We're Old

**Author's Note:**

> This was also inspired by the song of the same name which was Lithuania’s 2018 Eurovision Song Contest entry. Don’t ask…

 

“Have you ever thought about what will happen when we’re old and grey?”

“That might just be the least romantic thing you’ve ever said to me.”

Belle looked sideways at her husband.

“Be that as it may,” she said, “you didn’t answer my question.”

Gold sighed. “I try not to think about it. I’m already halfway to senility and I’ll reach it long before you do. I don’t want to imagine a world where I look at you and I don’t know who you are.”

“None of that.” There was no sternness in Belle’s voice, just fondness. Her eyes told a different story, a hint of sadness in their striking blue depths. Belle’s eyes had been one of the first things that Gold noticed about her. They were so expressive. No matter what she might be saying or how she might be smiling, Belle’s eyes always betrayed her true feelings.

Gold knew that she didn’t like it when he spoke so disparagingly of himself. It wasn’t that what he had to say hurt her in herself; it was not that she disliked being reminded that she’d married a man several years older than her. She hated the bitterness in his voice. She hated that he hated himself.

Over time, her love, and moreover her persistence in it, had begun to change his perceptions of himself. If Belle, so bright and young and bold and so unashamedly _good_ could see the good in him and think him worthy of her love and affection, well, maybe there was something in there after all.

“I hope that we’re together when we’re old.” Belle tucked her feet up under her on the sofa and gave a happy little sigh as she snaked her arms around Gold’s middle, burrowing in under her arm and staying there, curled up tight and snug like a cat. “I can just picture us sitting out there on that little bench in the garden, covered in blankets and sipping our tea, all grey-haired and bespectacled. Like stereotypical grandparents, you know. Maybe we will be grandparents by then.”

“We’re already grandparents,” Gold pointed out. “Well, I am, at least.” He thought of little Henry, nearly six months old now and growing fast.

“Great-grandparents then. Can you imagine Henry growing up and having kids of his own?”

“I’m still coming to terms with Neal growing up and having kids of his own, let alone Henry.”

He couldn’t help giving another sigh, and Belle looked up, unhooking one arm from around him and pressing a fingertip to the frown line between his brows.

“Why are you so tense?” she asked, gently rubbing his forehead. “I know that you’re older than me, love. I’ve always known that. I’m under no illusions that you’re going to get old sooner than I am. I can do basic maths. And you know me well enough to know that I’m not going to run for the hills when you do hit your senior years. You’re stuck with me forever, whether you like it or not.”

“I do like it. God, Belle, there’s nothing I want more than to see your face every day for the rest of my life.”

“So, what’s the problem, my darling? Please talk to me.” She untangled herself from him fully, squirming around until she was sitting in his lap, and Gold couldn’t help melting into her ready embrace.

“It’s not fair on you,” he mumbled to the curtain of her hair. “You’re my wife. You shouldn’t have to be my carer.”

“A carer is exactly what a spouse is,” Belle said levelly. She was stroking his hair, letting him rest his head against her shoulder. God, he felt old. “We care about each other.”

“It’s still not fair.”

“It’s life, love. It’s just the way it is. I don’t think it’s not fair.”

“You can’t exactly be looking forward to it.”

“No. But I’m not dreading it either. My feelings towards you getting older are entirely ambivalent because we all get old. I’m getting older too, just not at the same rate as you. In twenty years when you’re a pensioner, I’m not still going to be the same age I am now, am I? You’ve got a head start on me, that’s all.”

It made sense to think of it in that way. Perhaps because there were twenty years between them, Gold had never been able to visualise Belle as anything other than her young self, even though, looking back, he had known her for eight years and she was definitely not the same fresh out of college girl she’d been when she had first come to Storybrooke. When he thought of the future, of him a frail and weak old man, he never aged up Belle in unison. To him she was eternally young and lovely, and he knew he would always see her that way even as she did get older.

Maybe the same went for Belle. Maybe she would always see him as she saw him now.

“Ok, think of it this way,” Belle began again, and Gold realised that he hadn’t actually said anything for the last few minutes, too lost in his own musings. “If our positions were reversed and I was older than you, would you think it was unfair on you that I would hit my dotage before you and you would have to take care of me?”

“Of course not.”

Belle heaved a dramatic sigh and took his face in both her hands. Her eyes were smiling.

“Then why do you think that I would feel any differently, you silly sausage?”

“Erm.” Gold didn’t have a ready answer for that one, and Belle laughed, kissing him softly.

“You’re not a burden,” she said. “You never will be, to me, because I love you. I know that so many people have devalued your worth all through your life, but love is never a burden. You looked after your aunties when they got old, didn’t you?”

“That’s different. They raised me; they looked after me when I was young. I owed it to them.”

“No, you didn’t. Not like that. You owed it to them to make sure that they were cared for, but you could have used your money to make sure that they were well looked after and not got involved yourself. You went beyond that. You were there for them. You brought Aunt Elvira to live with you and Neal after Aunt Miriam died, when you could just as easily have put her in a nice old people’s home. That’s love, you daft thing.”

“If you love me so much, don’t call me daft.”

“You’re being daft. I merely speak as I find.” Belle rested her forehead against his. “I love you and I always will. I’m not saying that there aren’t going to be ups and downs, and I know that getting older isn’t going to be plain sailing for either of us. But don’t go doing anything drastic because you think I deserve better.”

“The thought never crossed my mind!” Gold protested, even though before this conversation it had done. Several times.

“The only unfair thing about you being older is that I’ll likely have to live in a world without you at some point. And we’re not talking that far in the future. Ageing is inevitable. Why worry so much about something you can’t control?”

Gold knew that he was irrational, especially regarding Belle and her sheer tenacity when it came to love. And to him. More specifically to loving him. He’d tried to talk her out of it so many times, always on the path to self-sabotage, but Belle had always stood her ground, seeing through his bluster and bravado, seeing through his coldness to the insecure man beneath, desperate to be loved but afraid of the terms and conditions that love had come with in the past for him.

With Belle, there were no conditions. She loved him, for all his flaws, and now that they were married he had finally just about stopped waiting for the other shoe to drop and accepted that she loved him and that was all there was to it.

“You’re remarkable, you know,” Gold said. He could hear the wonder in his own voice, and he knew that as long as Belle lived, he would never stop being mesmerised not only by her beauty, but by her soul. “I hope that we’re together when we’re old too.” There was really no one else he could imagine spending his twilight years with. And after all, old age wasn’t the end of everything. There was a certain freedom that came with it. Once they were both retired, there were all sorts of adventures that they could go on.

He thought of Belle’s vision of them sitting in the garden together. _Maybe we’ll be grandparents by then._ There was a lot of life left to live before they reached that point, and he knew how silly it was to be talking like he had one foot in the grave already.

Belle kissed him again. He was definitely stuck with her and he didn’t know what he’d do if he’d followed through on any of the increasingly ridiculous and desperate plans he had made regarding Belle’s future. It was selfish to make such decisions for her in the hope of preventing an imagined heartbreak that he knew deep down would never come.

Gold was never going to be able to let the old insecurities die; they were too ingrained in his subconscious for that. But all he needed to do was look at Belle and see her looking at him like that, and he would know that the dark thoughts gripping him were unfounded.

He saw them old and grey together out in the garden. Maybe Henry would visit from college. He hoped he’d get to see great-grandchildren in his lifetime. And maybe more grandchildren. Belle had brought up the topic of children before, and he had always deferred the conversation, figuring that soon she’d come to her senses and remember that he was too old to be a father again.

Maybe he wasn’t. Belle didn’t think that he was, even if she’d dropped the subject for a while. Perhaps it was time to revisit it, but not right now. Now he was content just to hold Belle close, knowing that no matter how many years might pass, she was never going to be far away from his arms. 


End file.
